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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112666">The Morning After</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeebruh/pseuds/Zeebruh'>Zeebruh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Romance, F/M, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, Retcon, Rough Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:21:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeebruh/pseuds/Zeebruh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of Laura walking away the morning after their night in New Orleans, they partake in some barroom hate-fucking.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Laura Moon &amp; Mad Sweeney, Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mad Sweeney barely knows what in fuck’s name happened last night, and a part of him is scared to face the force-to-be-reckoned-with that is Laura Moon.</p>
<p>But the second he wakes up to the crack of sunlight shining on his face, naked and alone in a now-empty den of iniquity, he knows he has to see her. To see if whatever it is Samedi did to her worked. (And as he quickens his pace to get back to the bar, he tells himself that it’s <em>only</em> because he wants his coin back.)</p>
<p>The Irishman bursts through the door, slowing his pace immediately when he sees a startled Laura. He walks up to her awkwardly, and avoids her eyes when he says, “Hey.”</p>
<p>She glares at him. It feels like it could cut through his eyeballs.</p>
<p>He looks at her, then looks at the wall, then fidgets. “By yourself?”</p>
<p>Somehow, Laura sweeps past his awkwardness. “I don’t know why you came back here. I’m leaving,” she says resolutely. She’s always so goddamn resolute.</p>
<p>She storms towards the door, which is in his direction, but Sweeney has little trouble using his width to block her. “Where’re you off to?”</p>
<p>            “Away from you.”</p>
<p>            “What? No, wait—” Sweeney is unable to control the notable tinge of hurt in his tone. He grabs her arm, forgetting momentarily how a move like that could result in Laura ripping his arm off.</p>
<p>She reminds him. “Don’t make me hurt you.”</p>
<p>But he doesn’t let go. He swallows down his feelings and forces himself to muster up some semblance of sternness. Sweeney feels his heart racing in his throat.</p>
<p>“Might I remind you that we had a deal? <em>You</em> get your life back, <em>I</em> get my coin.”</p>
<p>Laura stares directly at him, despite him being a foot and a half taller. “Well I didn’t get my life back, did I? So, fuck you, deal’s off, I’m keeping your fucking coin.”</p>
<p>She starts to storm away again, and this time he follows her angrily, “Like <em>fuck </em>you are!” then asks earnestly, “What happened, huh? It didn’t work?”</p>
<p>            “Oh, please,” she’s shaking head disdainfully, “Bullshit.”</p>
<p>Sweeney is genuinely confused, and plants himself in front of her again. “What?”</p>
<p>            “<em>Bullshit</em>, fucking bullshit! This is all Wednesday, all of this! All the way back to the casino. He sends you to fuck my plan and then he sends you to fuck me?”</p>
<p>Sweeney lets out an incredulous breath, readying to defend himself, but she continues, “I mean, I knew you were his bitch. I didn’t realize you were his whore as well.”</p>
<p>And now, now he’s in utter disbelief. Sweeney feels the rage boil over, spreading from the tightness in his chest to his entire body.</p>
<p>            “What happened last night is not part of some grand plan, you <em>stupid cunt!</em>” he all but yells, storming closer, “They’re <em>death </em>Loa, <em>they</em> fucked us! And I don’t do Wednesday’s errands because I like him, I do them because I fucking <em>owe </em>him.”</p>
<p>When he’s done, he’s hovering over Laura. He wants her to feel intimidated, to understand who’s in charge here, but deep down he knows the chances are slim to none. Sweeney will never understand how someone so fucking miniscule can make him feel like the small one.</p>
<p>He feels it’s important to reaffirm, “I hate that one-eyed cunt more than you will <em>ever</em> know.”</p>
<p>Laura sighs, almost with pity, then tells him matter-of-factly, “You do Wednesday’s errands because no matter how much you claim you want a war to die in, you’re too much of a fucking coward to find your own.”</p>
<p>There’s a thick moment of silence between them.</p>
<p>Sweeney fights the urge to punch her right in her self-righteous fucking face, but only holds back because he knows how fucked up he’ll be if he tries it.</p>
<p>Then, he musters up, “You don’t know the first <em>fucking </em>thingabout me, dead wife. So don’t you ever,” Sweeney points a finger just millimeters away from her face, “<em>fucking </em>call me a coward again.” She swallows, and he sees her face waver ever so slightly. But she doesn’t move. He makes sure to enunciate every syllable when he says, “Under-<em>fucking</em>-stood?” </p>
<p>They stand there for another moment, inches away. How is it that Laura Moon, the tiny revenant, manages to make his blood boil this much? He knows he’s hot-headed but for fuck’s sake, he’s lived for a long time and even still the rage he feels when he’s around her is unmatched.</p>
<p>The air is thick as they stare silently at each other. Laura’s face is pulled into a defiant frown and Sweeney’s chest is heaving with pure anger. The smell of old wood and cigarettes hangs between them, amplified by the New Orleans humidity.</p>
<p>And suddenly, Laura is grabbing the back of Sweeney’s neck and pulls him down with sheer force, causing his lips to crash violently with hers.</p>
<p>The leprechaun can’t help but let out a low growl at the impact. His hands immediately rake up her body and she digs her nails into face.</p>
<p>            “Fuck you,” she hisses into his mouth.</p>
<p>            “Fuck <em>you</em>,” he counters, momentarily tightening his grip on the sides of her head as his hands slide into her hair, leveraging himself to kiss her more deeply.</p>
<p>They knock over the chairs around them, directionally aimless in their frenzy.</p>
<p>Sweeney gets his hands under her dress so he can feel the smooth skin of her hips and stomach, and Laura steps out of her own panties with effortless skill as she undoes his pants. His fingers drag against her delicate frame and he feels as if he could crush her under his grip. Sweeney is very much aware that, in reality, it’s the exact opposite.</p>
<p>When they kiss it’s forceful, open-mouthed, and rough, and the Irishman feels like his lips are being bruised every time they do it. Their noses crush against each other’s and their tongues fight for dominance. Laura’s frantic hands slip him out of his jacket, and he pulls any remaining shirts over his head and tosses them aside.  </p>
<p>Whatever it was that happened last night was intense. But in this moment, last night feels so hazy to him. A limbo between reality and a dream. Sweeney woke up this morning unsure of whether that really was Laura in his arms last night. But now, there’s no doubt in his mind that this, <em>this</em> is real. And whatever she did to get the coin recharged is working wonders because she certainly feels human – all flushed, her mouth soft and plump, her warm breath all over Sweeney’s face and neck. She even smells good, like incense and dark liquor.</p>
<p>They collapse to the ground gracelessly, Sweeney’s large body enveloping hers as her back hits the wood floor. He knows Laura wants him inside her because of the greedy way she’s clawing at his pants, and he feels his cock getting harder by the second, aching for the same release. But he wants to taste her first.</p>
<p>He bunches the skirt of her dress up as much as he can, and stuffs the hem in her mouth—which she gladly takes hold of between her teeth—and proceeds to kiss and bite down her stomach. Laura writhes up into his touch, her hips begging for more as she moans into the fabric. Sweeney uses all his strength to spread her knees apart, sliding his thumbs up against her thighs and pressing in firmly. She groans and all but draws blood when she digs her nails into the back of his head, forcing his face down. He chuckles smugly, “<em>Foighne, a stór,</em>” and Sweeney knows she doesn’t know what he’s saying but she gets the gist of it when he stops his face just an inch away from her pussy and licks a slow, deliberate stripe up it.</p>
<p>            “<em>Fmmck</em>,” she muffles over the dress, which is still firmly blocking her ability to speak, and he decides after a few seconds of teasing to take her fully in his mouth, making her slick with his spit and tasting how increasingly wet she’s getting. He picks up on Laura’s cues when her body starts to jerk involuntarily, it’s when the tip of his tongue hits just the right rhythm and spot around her clit. He picks up the pace and concentrates all that he can on that spot, allowing his hands to pin her wrists down by her side (which is only possible because she <em>lets </em>him do it) while her back arches and her moans grow louder. Sweeney can’t help but grind his own hips into the floor, his cock aching as he feels and tastes her getting closer to orgasm. Laura’s pussy is surprisingly sweet for someone who’s so viciously aggravating.</p>
<p>He feels her start to flood his mouth and buck up against his face more aggressively, finally fighting back against his grip. He knows better than to wrestle her on that, so instead he slides his hands under her ass, allowing him better control. </p>
<p>She’s practically shaking by the time she’s about to climax, her moans becoming more primal as Sweeney’s tongue laps up her wetness. She rakes her fingers through his hair and <em>fuck</em>, it hurts a bit, but he doesn’t mind. He almost likes it. He can feel the pre-cum on his dick dampen his pants, and thanks the gods she orgasms when she does because he’s been dry humping the floor so long that he’s embarrassingly close too. Laura all but screams when she comes, her thighs trembling, and Sweeney can tell she’s biting down on the dress hard because he can practically hear her teeth grinding.</p>
<p>Moments after she finishes, he climbs back on top of her and meets her lips with a hard kiss. For a moment they’re just lying on the ground, tasting Laura mutually as Sweeney tangles one hand in her hair, the other supporting her head, the sweat that’s built up on his face dripping onto her cheek. And then, he’s dragging her up from the ground, slamming her against the nearest wall. He has to arch his neck down and she’s standing on her tiptoes when they kiss. Sweeney lets his fingers run over her the skin of her neck and over her tits, with her dress half open and hanging off one shoulder.</p>
<p>            “Fuck me,” she orders as she bites down onto his lower lip, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s just barely unzipped his pants when she pulls his dick out, the feeling of her fingers around him making him groan. Laura lets out a small gasp at the width and length of him, as she’s barely able to wrap her hand fully around his cock. Sweeney feels a wave of satisfaction rush over him at this reaction.  </p>
<p>He picks her up swiftly, just the way he had her last night, effortlessly balancing her on him as she wraps her legs around his waist for balance.</p>
<p>When he enters her, she inhales sharply and tightens her grip around his neck, and he can feel how slick and wet she is already from her orgasm. Laura Moon is perfectly nestled in Sweeney’s thick arms, moaning under his touch while he nips at her neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and starts to fuck her mercilessly, uncaring that her head and back are thudding against the wall with every thrust. This is not the time or place for slow and steady. She’s so fucking tight and he knows he’s too big for her, but the way she’s purring in his ear and begging him <em>harder, please</em> tells him she's enjoying herself. </p>
<p>            “You like that?" he growls, savouring the way her body is responding to him by pushing herself down further, eager to be filled. </p>
<p>            "Fuck yes." </p>
<p>            "Still think I’m a fucking coward?” he says in a low tone as he kisses along her jaw. </p>
<p>            “What?” she says absentmindedly, in between moans, too caught up in her own pleasure.  </p>
<p>            “I said, do you still think I’m a fucking coward now?” the spite is tinging his voice, but Sweeney gives her a cheeky grin when he looks at her, sliding himself out until just the tip of his cock is taunting her. Allowing her to feel the absence of him.</p>
<p>Laura stops moving for a moment and stares back at him, mouth agape and face half smug, half wanton. “No,” she says, biting her cheeks to fight down a smile.</p>
<p>            “Hm?” he teases, then demands, “say it again.”</p>
<p>            “No, I don’t think you’re a coward,” Laura makes sure to over-enunciate. She starts to roll her eyes, but Sweeney grabs her face and forces her to look back at him, and any hint of sarcasm is gone in an instant. Instead, her expression is clouded with lust, and he keeps his unwavering gaze on hers when he fills her up again, slowly, all the way, and her eyes almost roll to the back of her head. Sweeney covers Laura’s gasp with the same hand, and she grabs a fistful of his hair in response and pulls, hard. </p>
<p>Right when he’s about to come, and his moans are getting louder and pace becoming faster, Laura snaps him out of it when she slaps his face, enough to leave a notable sting. His eyes widen as he blinks to process, but when he sees her amused face he bares his teeth in a grin.</p>
<p>            “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, eh?” he chuckles and immediately pins his hand to her neck, settling under her jaw, with just enough force against her throat to know she’s struggling to breathe. He can tell it turns her on because of the face she’s making, like she’s almost on the edge herself, and then she chokes him back. Sweeney can tell she’s being cautious, that even the mid-level pressure on his Adam’s apple is her dialing it down immensely. Laura's thumb slides over his lips and takes it into his mouth, cherishing the way her eyes gleam when he lets his wet tongue taste her skin. </p>
<p>They fuck like that a bit longer, and then he carries her over to the bar counter, placing her on the edge of it. He can smell Samedi all around here, he knows this is where he and Laura fucked —what, a mere eight hours ago?— but all Sweeney can think is that he wants her to have this memory, <em>his</em> memory, take place of that one.</p>
<p>She brings him in for another kiss and runs her hands all over his sweat-slick chest, shoulders, stomach. Laura Moon doesn’t hold back when she’s enjoying something — she’s moaning and screaming and sinking her teeth into his earlobe and neck while he fucks her. Sweeney unashamedly lets his own volume rival hers, and he fucks her so hard that he thinks any other person as tiny as her would split in half, wouldn't be able to handle how deep he's going. (But she's not any other person, is she.) </p>
<p>Laura starts rubbing her clit, her back splayed against the counter top, but Sweeney is determined to take over, so he slaps her hand away, licks his own fingers, and starts where hers left off. She almost looks surprised at this, but quickly submits and tilts her head back, biting her lips in pleasure. “Higher,” she instructs him, which he obeys. “Fuck, yes, right there.”</p>
<p>            “You gonna come all over my cock, dead wife?” Sweeney lilts on the ironic moniker.  </p>
<p>She all but leaves claw marks on his forearms, but nods breathlessly anyway. He can feel her pulsing all around him, which drives him even crazier by the second. </p>
<p>Sweeney tells himself that this is them getting their release, letting the spite and indignation manifest in the way they're fucking, in the way they're pulling each other’s hair and biting and choking and drawing blood. It’s pure, unadulterated hate-fucking.</p>
<p>Except, deep down, they both know it’s more than just hate-fucking. There’s something…there. And maybe it wasn't always. For Sweeney, at least, he knows that he really did hate Laura’s fucking guts at the beginning. And she still infuriates the hell out of him. But something is there now, and he thinks that, just maybe, something has been there for quite some time now. It was there last night, when they stared at each other incredulously before allowing themselves to submit to the bizarre situation. And that same something is here, but amplified, right now.</p>
<p>But Sweeney doesn’t have much time to think about that, because he’s so fucking close to finishing. He’s rubbing Laura’s clit — furiously but with deft skill — and when he brings her over the edge for a second time, he finds his own release just moments after. She clenches around him, her arms tightly wrapping around his neck and pulling him close as he lets out a series of primordial grunts, and experiences one of the most intense and drawn out orgasms he’s had in a long while.</p>
<p>They’re both heaving so hard that, for once, words fail the both of them. Sweeney feels oddly at peace when he collapses against Laura, feeling himself slowly regain his breath while he takes in the scent of her neck and chest. Her own breath is warm, and her hand raking through his hair, the other resting on his back.  </p>
<p>Sweeney feels a wave of exhaustion come over him, and shortly after, they both sink to the ground for better access to a surface for their tired bodies.</p>
<p>As Sweeney allows himself to drift in and out of consciousness, he swears he feels Laura’s fingers trace over his cheek as she nestles into the crook of his arm. </p>
<p>Eventually, he hears her breath slow in almost perfect unison with his own.  </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>When Sweeney wakes up, he experiences a dreaded sense of déjà vu.</p>
<p>He gets to his feet immediately, and though he already knows what the outcome is going to be, he scans the room anyway. Just in case he’s wrong.</p>
<p>He’s not. Laura Moon is gone.  </p>
<p>The leprechaun can’t help when the feeling of gut-wrenching disappointment hits him. He takes a seat on a barstool and sits there a while longer, trying but failing to wrap his head around it all.</p>
<p>            “Fuck.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how many hours pass before he somberly zips up his pants, finds the rest of his clothes, and grabs the biggest bottle of whiskey he can find. When he stalks out of the bar, he slams the door behind him as hard as he can.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>A few days later, drunk off his rocker and barely conscious, Sweeney finds himself a suitable patch of dirt to sleep on under a giant bridge. His clothes are muddied from the travel and he vaguely remembers carrying one boot in his hand, the other tightly gripping his flask.  </p>
<p>He hopes he’s close to Cairo, close to that fucker Wednesday to give him a piece of his mind, but has no idea if he’s anywhere close. In fact, it’s because of his aforementioned mind, which is slipping further away from him, that he’s quickly losing his bearings. At every waking moment, he feels what little luck he still has draining, painstakingly, from his soul. The only time he feels peace is when he’s sleeping, and the only way he can achieve that is by drinking himself into a stupor.</p>
<p>And now, Sweeney is exhausted, and all he wants to do is rest. He takes a swig from the flask and falls to the ground.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Before Shadow Moon finds him and rouses him from the dirt, the leprechaun swears he sees Laura’s face in his dreams. He holds on to that visual before it, like everything else, inevitably drifts away.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, this is retcon for S02E05. </p>
<p>As you might notice, the first 500 words or so of dialogue are taken straight from the real scene. And, much to my own chagrin, Sweeney's storyline still ends in the same way. (But fingers crossed that the leprechaun miraculously finds some way to come back from the dead next season so that these two crazy kids can get the romantic moment they deserve!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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